Fear
by Reinbeauchaser
Summary: Raph has to face his greatest fear. A one-shot, my second! Whoo hoo! Not sure if I should continue this or do sequels. Yeah, another OC TMNT Fic. Can't help myself, it's what the TMNT's are all about! Dedicated to Buslady of SoCal!


DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em, don't have room for 'em, but I sure love to write about 'em!  Anyway, I'm just cleaning out my 'closet' of started TMNT stories.  Pray for me, please!  I'm really not responsible for my actions.  I think I have Fanfiction-itis!

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Trisha didn't understand how Raphael could be so stubborn.  She combed her long dark brown hair with swift angry strokes and then began braiding it, scowling at her reflection in the mirror.  The woman thought about how her friend had completely ignored the obvious problem.  She worked the sections of hair furiously while her irritation intensified. "He's such a jerk sometimes!" she fumed, soon tying off the end of her braid with a rubber band.  Flipping the long tail of hair over her shoulder, she blew out a frustrated sigh, "But, I have to admit it, I do like the brute, arrogant as he can be!" She smiled once at her mirror image and then, taking up her robe and slipping it on, she headed out of her bathroom.

Trisha ended up in the kitchen to grab her second cup of coffee for the morning.  She noticed the package of Danish rolls from four days prior and decided that dry was better than not having anything to eat at all.  She took up a plate from the cupboard overhead.  Plopping the last roll on it, Trisha decided that hot and dry was better than cold and dry.  She quickly sat the dish with the roll in her microwave oven and closed its door.  Punching in twenty seconds and starting the appliance, she hummed a favorite tune while waiting for the timer to ding ready.

She was enjoying the now warmed roll, sitting at the dinette table with her cup of coffee.  After reading the front-page headlines, Trisha turned to the classifieds, being careful not to rip the paper.  The newspaper was wet, as always, seeming to find the least dry spot on her lawn each morning. No matter how many times she told the delivery boy to aim for her front porch, he seemed to always miss – and apparently with abandon, too.  Sometimes she'd find the paper in the bushes, oftentimes on her neighbor's lawn.  "That kid must be half blind!" she'd fume each morning.  "How hard can it be to make the porch?" she'd lament. 

Still, at least she had a newspaper.  Checking the help wanted ads Trisha looked over them expectantly.  She had been out of work for six months, now.  Yet, for each job interview she went on since then, she'd received as many disappointments.  Either the pay wasn't enough, or the interviewer was a leech, or the location less than savory.  She wasn't hard to please, but she did have personal expectations.  Where her car was anything but reliable, Trisha didn't want a long drive each day.  The pay had to cover at least her living expenses, too.  It seemed that regardless of her experience, what jobs there were, offered low hourly wages.  Too low, in fact, and were way below her financial needs.  Worse still, it seemed that their expectations exceeded her own as far as behavior on the job was concerned!  She wasn't a prude but Trisha certainly wasn't easy either!

If it weren't for her obsessive saving practices, however, she would have had to give up her home months ago.  Originally, it was her parents' home.  It had been five years since she had inherited it and up until recently, never had to worry about affording it.  Now, because she had been out of work, her savings account was nearly deplete.  Consequently, Trish was becoming desperate. 

_"I could take that last job offer, I guess,"_  she mused silently, _"if the boss makes a move on me I could always do that neat little wrist maneuver Raph showed me!"_ she chuckled. _"Then, again, I'd be back at square one, again, looking for a job." _

Trisha sighed, the second time that morning.  Though she wasn't one to delve in to a self-pity mode, lately she had been finding herself there more often than not.  "What am I going to do?" she said aloud.

"Maybe apologize?" a voice boomed as it came up from behind her.

Without turning around, she knew whom the voice belonged to – and she wasn't too thrilled with what he had just said.  Placing her half-eaten roll back on its plate, "What makes you think that I'm the one that needs to?" she asked derisively.

"Because it's true." He smirked.

"Says who?" she inquired tartly, not bothering to turn around to even acknowledge his presence.

"Says me!" he replied gruffly, coming around the table where she sat and faced her.

"Oh and since when are you so right?" she asked, challenging him with her gaze.  It was hard and determined, not giving a hint of backing down.

"Since you started it and since you insulted me!" he said dryly.

"Only because you were acting like a jerk!  What is it they say, if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen!" she chided.

"I can take the heat, Lady…but can you?" he slipped into the chair across from where she sat at the table, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I can take anything, Raph!  Certainly you, but for reasons that defy explanation, you bail the moment you get your feathers ruffled!" she retorted in a huff, turning her head away in frustration.

"Feathers?  Look at me; do I even look like I wear feathers." Raph sneered.

She looked back at him and cocked one eyebrow, "Okay, fine.  Scales, whenever you get your _scales_ ruffled!  Is that better?" Trisha growled back irritably.

Raph just looked at her, taking in the fact that she was wearing a robe and wondering if that was all she was wearing.  He then caught her gaze watching his and the smoldering look she gave him told Raph he had ventured his sights where he shouldn't have.  He grinned at her, that lopsided grin that always seemed to wear her down faster than she could avoid it.  Shaking her head in defeat, she smiled back.

"Well, took you long enough to come back, I guess!" she remarked and then asked, "Where'd you go to?"

"Back home…for a while.  Needed to cool off." He reached over and snatched her remaining roll so quickly that he had it popped into his mouth before she could react.

"Hey, that's my breakfast you just stole!" Trisha protested.

"Hmm…good, dry, but good!" he said between chews, smiling triumphantly.  He eyed her thoughtfully, noticing her braided hair and the few errant wisps that were too short to be contained.  To him it looked cute.  "Going somewhere, Trisha?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. 

Seeing him again, though it has only been two short weeks, brought back the feelings she had for him.  Trisha would never tell him that, though.  Maybe Raph was the most interesting and intriguing person she had ever met, but he was still a totally different species.  They were friends, just friends.  Yet no matter how much she tried to convince herself of that, the fact of the matter was, she felt more for him than simple friendship…and it bothered her. 

"Well, I was hoping to find a job opportunity today, but it's the same old thing.  Low pay, questionable employer, too many miles." She lamented.  "Maybe I need to check out the department stores!"

"Hey, you can always work for a pizzeria and then you can get free pizza!" Raph suggested as he raised his eye ridges.

"HA!  Wonder who'd get the free pizza, eh?" she teased. 

"Hmm…a certain family of walking, talking, sentient reptiles would be most grateful!"  He replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I bet!" Trisha was no fool; she knew exactly who would be first in line.  "So, speaking of pizza-hounds how's Mikey these days?"

"'Bout the same, giving me sh.." Raph turned a careful eye towards Trisha but then carefully rephrased his sentence, "Givin' me trouble."  He worked the inside of his cheek as he considered how proper he tried to act around the woman.  Anyone else suggested he clean up his mouth and he'd be shoving his fist down theirs.  Yet, there was something compelling about Trish that had Raph acting a little better.  This, of course, didn't go unnoticed at home.  That was one reason why he spent so much time here at her house, to escape the teasing.  Except for the past two weeks, Raph had been making him self comfortable on her couch.  They were friends, simple as that, founded on his need for a place to stay and Trish's need for protection.  If it hadn't had been for Raph's interference with her rapists attempts on her, he would still be looking for a place and – well – his friend might be dead.  Either way, it was a relationship based on need and supply, nothing more.

"Well, you know, Raph, you can be easy to give trouble to." She smiled wickedly. "I've certainly found amusement doing it!" Now her smile turned to a grin as she saw the turtle sitting across from her pin his eye ridges together. 

"What exactly does THAT mean?" he asked, straightening up indignantly.

Eyeing him cautiously, Trish replied, "Only that you make my life so safe – I feel comfortable being around you.  I like bugging you occasionally, is all.  Kind of nice watching someone who reacts honestly!"

Raph weighed her words and wondered if maybe she was just stringing him along, sweet-talking him so he wouldn't blow up at her.  That's what happened the last time.  That's why he he'd been gone for two weeks.  Deciding he had missed her too much for a repeat, he let it go.

"So, is there any chance of me meeting your family?" Trisha asked him, grabbing up her plate and cup.  She then stood to going over to the sink to rinse them out. 

"Ha!  Like any of 'em will come out this way.  They like where they are for right now." Raph stood as well and followed her.   He liked how she walked, sashaying her hips a little as she took each step.  The terry robe might have hidden the better part of her shape, but Raph could imagine well enough. 

With her back turned to him, Trisha admonished, "Take a picture, Raph – it lasts longer."  Then she turned around to face him, to find herself a little closer than she felt comfortable.  Now they were mere inches apart.

"Why, do I make ya nervous?" he asked softly, sensing her unease as he looked at her.

"My protector, make _me_ nervous?" She asked coyly, "You know if you did, you'd be out on your tail – literally!" Trish laughed now, getting a smile of amusement from the one standing in front of her. "A little, maybe, if only because of what I know you can do.  At least, what you've allowed me to see!"  She looked at him, amused that even though he stood a full inch shorter than she did, Raph was still quite imposing nonetheless.  He was well muscled and would be the envy of any non-steroid enhanced body builder.  The fact that he could sneak up on her so well and the way that he had rescued her told the girl he could take care of himself pretty much.  "Any chance of telling me more about _you_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"Nope, I'm just a simple turtle, Trish." He said casually. 

She could see amusement dance in her friend's eyes, as if he were holding back on some interesting fact.  Trish knew there was more to Raph than he was letting on.  He wasn't fooling her for one moment.  Though they had known each other for three months, he never talked much about himself, only allowing her to see what he wanted her to see.

"Ah huh, yeah…simple is about the biggest understatement of the year when describing you, Raphael."  The woman laughed. 

He smiled at her and chuckled once.  He liked the fact that she was smart enough to know he wasn't giving her the whole story on himself.  Still, he would keep that aspect of him securely locked away from her – for now, at least.

"So," she began, "are you sticking around or should I leave dinner in the fridge for you?"

"Depends." He countered.

"On what, pray tell?" Trish asked, a crook of a smile forming on her face.

"If you apologize first." Raph replied with a voice that was light yet underscored by a subtle seriousness.

"I'm not sorry for saying what I did.  I stand by my convictions." Trish now folded her arms in front of her, noticing his mood wane considerably.  More color was starting to come to his face as his attitude began to tank.  She knew from last time how quickly Raph could leave when he wanted to.  He ran, as far as she was concerned, rather than face the obvious.

"You know what happened two weeks ago, Trish!" he threatened.

"Yes, I do.  And, yet, here you are.  So do you admit it?" she challenged him.

Raph shook his head as he clenched and unclenched his fists.  He truly did not want to leave this time, yet her persistence was almost as annoying as Leo's was.  What was it about her that kept him coming back, though?  It wasn't as if anything could come of their relationship and yet, here he was – just as she had said.  

"You know what the problem is, Raphael!  You're afraid, afraid of being who you really are.  You build up this big façade of toughness and yet I know there's something more inside of you."  Oh, that was the ticket, she noticed.  Now he was really steaming up.  She knew if one more word were said about this, he'd be storming out of her house and, quite possibly, never to return.  She kept her mouth shut for a moment.  Despite the obvious differences, she liked his company; she liked him.

He looked at Trish, angry with her for stating something so revolting.  Afraid?  Him?  Not on this earth.  Yet, maybe in some ways he was.  He knew what she was referring to and, yes, he had to admit he was a bit skittish about it.  Skittish?  Where'd that word come from?  However, as he continued to roll that thought around in his head, Raph finally came to understand what he needed to do.  It would settle for good any notion of fear she accused him of having.  For that matter, it would certainly put aside any 'skittishness' he had felt himself.

Moving so fast that it didn't even give Trish enough time to squeak, Raphael grabbed her up in his arms.  He looked longingly at her and then proved once and for all that no way in hell was he afraid.  He planted a long, sensuous kiss on her lips, taking her in and then pulled away, grinning victoriously at her.

Raphael, afraid of a little kiss?  Not on your life!  


End file.
